The Nightmare
by Cordria
Summary: Danny's trapped in a nightmare world and his ghost powers are vanishing. Can he find the key in time to save himself, his mother, and possibly the rest of the world from an ancient and powerful creature buried in his dreams?
1. The Nightmare

_Enter the nightmare..._

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 1 – The Nightmare

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There it was… the nightmare again. He closed his eyes, focused on that bit of himself that wasn't like the rest, trying to let the warm, heavy feeling fizzle through this being – only it didn't. It was supposed to be effortless. It wasn't supposed to even be a mere thought, it was less than that. Except today. Today it was impossible. He had made himself dizzy from concentrating so hard. 

He opened his eyes, staring at himself in the mirror. Under the messy white hair, glowing green eyes stared right back at him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe this nightmare wasn't so bad. He was usually at school, or out on the town, or with his parents, or something. Locked safely in his room was a dream compared to the usual nightmare. Here, he could just spend a bit of time stuck in his ghost form, and when he woke up all would be well. After all, he had this nightmare very often. He always woke up. He was always better.

Keeping his eyes closed, he drifted over to his bed and collapsed onto it. The alarm next to his bed told him that he would be getting up in fifteen minutes – if the alarm in the real world said the same time. Not too long to wait. He could start to…

_Knock, knock, knock!_

He flipped himself invisible with barely a thought and rolled into a crouch, poised to take off. Even in this nightmare, he was tense and ready to fight. His arm throbbed from the earlier fight with Skulker and his leg twitched. "Danny?" his mother called through the door, then she opened it and walked in with an armload of laundry. He didn't move. He was invisible. She wouldn't see him.

But she stopped in her tracks and stared straight into his eyes. Dropping the laundry, she yelled "Ghost!" Then she glanced around the room and hissed, "Where's my son?"

He was confused. Why could she see him? Why wasn't he invisible? What kind of nightmare was this? It was too much. He needed to get away. He took off, phasing through the ceiling… only he couldn't. He hit his head hard on the ceiling and tumbled to the ground, blackness twitching at the edges of his vision while stars danced in the middle. He struggled to his knees, gasping at the pain in his head. What was going on?

He heard a faint sound behind him. The swish of a foot on the carpet. Twisting his head, he had just enough to time to notice that the Anti-Creep Stick was inches from his face and moving fast, before his head seemed to explode and the blackness overwhelmed him totally.

His last conscious thought before the darkness swept him away was that the nightmare was finally over.

Unfortunately for him he was totally wrong.

_To be continued..._

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_This story is written in a kind of weird third-person format. There are very, very few names used throughout the entire story. There are also extremely few characters, which makes the "he" and "she" easier to follow. This is pretty dark and depressing… so read with caution. No blood and guts though._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any of the other characters created by Butch Hartman. I am not making any money off this and it is for pure fun. Enjoy!_


	2. A Brief Moment

_Submit to the night.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 2 – A Brief Moment

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The pounding music woke him up. Who would have the bass turned up so high in this house? He cracked open his eyes, only to squeeze them shut again as a light as bright as the sun burned into his brain, turning up the sound of the pounding. Dimly, he realized that the pulsing bass of the music was actually the throbbing of his own mind. With that, the nightmare of last night circled murkily into his brain, but that was just a nightmare. Skulker must have hit him harder than he thought to give him this big of a headache.

He tried to roll over, only to find that his back and neck were stiff from laying on a hard surface for hours. He must have fallen asleep on the floor. Moaning in pain, he pushed himself into a sitting position, keeping his eyes firmly shut and his head as still as possible. It was going to be a wonderful day. He knew it. This headache, and now the all-over ache of sleeping on the floor. And his arm still hurt. Today was one of those days he could count on Lancer giving a test.

"Ghost." That sounded strangely like his mother. Only she wasn't screaming it like usual. She said it matter-of-factly. From close by – only a few feet away. It was almost like she was speaking to one. But that wasn't possible… was it? Maddie Fenton? Speak first and blast later?

His head throbbed at the questions pounding through his brain. Or had she already blasted and now was ready to talk? There was only one way to find out. He needed to open his eyes.

One slightly opened eye told him the bad news. Maddie Fenton was staring at _him_. Thus, she was talking to _him_. She was, obviously, talking to a ghost, so he was still… his brain froze as the thought coalesced in his mind.

Two slightly opened eyes told him the nightmare was far from over. He was surrounded by some sort of ghost-shield. It was a half-sphere, no more than five or six feet across, and he was sitting on the ground in the middle. Maddie, the ghost-shield, and he were all in the lab downstairs. The lab with all the testing equipment. The lab that was used to tear ghosts apart "molecule by molecule." Painfully, most likely.

"Ghost," she said again, now that she had his attention. "Where is my son? What were you doing in his room?"

He slowly turned to stare at her, since any fast movements made his head spin. There was something wrong with her voice. He couldn't focus well enough to figure out what, but there was something… off…

"Answer me, ghost!" she hissed, grabbing a large ecto-weapon off the wall and pointing it at his bruised head. The Fenton Foamer, his brain whispered to him as he continued to stare. "Answer me!" her voice broke, and a sob left her. The weapon never wavered in her grip. "What have you done to my son?"

He decided to answer her, his voice welling up inside of him. He would tell her everything – that he was a ghost. The pain would go away. The nightmare would end. She would take him into her arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. That's what mothers are for, after all. He took a deep breath to begin to talk, but halfway up his voice decided to stop working. His mouth felt oddly dry as the world seemed to spin around him. The blackness swirled up like mist, claiming his mind for a second time.

"No!" he heard dimly as he surrendered to the darkness. "Please answer me!" Her screaming sobs chased him, nibbling at his heals as he ran from her.

_To be continued..._

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_I do not, shall not, and never will own Danny Phantom. Enjoy!_


	3. Trapped

_Unleash your nightmares upon those you love.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 3 – Trapped

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The next time he woke up, his head was pounding quite a bit less. He was still in the ghost-shield, still in the lab… but the lab was dark and apparently empty. The portal was closed. The only light came from the dimly glowing dome surrounding him. He sighed, and tried to figure out what was going on.

That he wasn't in a normal nightmare was obvious. What wasn't so obvious was whether he was in some ghost's weird version of a nightmare or if he was in real life. Some ghosts, he knew, could mess with your mind. Make you see things and think things. It wasn't much of a stretch to imagine one could trap you in a nightmare. But he couldn't remember any new ghosts lately – and the fight with Skulker had been a normal fight. He hadn't been hit with anything weird.

So he was probably in real life. Which meant he was in big trouble. He needed to find a way out of here.

Flexing his fingers, he focused on that vague warm, heavy feeling in his mind again. He relaxed, trying to let the feeling wash over him… but nothing happened. It was a similar failure when he tried to phase through the floor. Two options down. Green, flowing ecto-energy swirled around his fingers as he tensed his arm. Pointing towards the dome, he fired off a shot with a flicker of thought. The energy ball exploded against the shield, sending green sparks raining down over him. Shaking the energized ectoplasm out of his hair, he glanced at the power reading on the shield generator. Not even a flicker. Not worth it. Another option down.

"What have you done to my son?" came an agonized voice from behind him. He twisted around, swiveling into a fighting stance before he even registered who it was. Standing over a sleeping bag, hair matted and sleep-deprived, his mother looked even worse than he did.

"Me?" he asked, relaxing slightly. She held something in her hands, but it looked harmless. Maybe a picture frame.

"You!" her voice was raising to a scream. "My son has been missing for four days and then you show up in his room! You! What have YOU done to MY SON?" She seemed to be quivering with pent up anger. But her hands were gentle on the object in her fingers.

He stared at her, watching her standing there, seemingly ready to fight the world to get her son back. To get _him_ back. "Four days?" was all he could think of to say. That can't be right. He fought Skulker last night. He had supper with her just before that. A couple of hours – tops. Not four days.

"Yes," she whispered, dissolving into tears. She sank to the floor, cradling the object in her hands. "I want my son back."

He sat on the floor, his world spinning – but not from his headache this time. He wanted to say something, say _anything_, but what? He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He wanted to tell her. He needed to tell her now. But where to start?

"Start at the beginning," he heard her whisper. He blinked, startled. She couldn't read his mind. She continued, not waiting for his answer. "What were you doing in my son's room?" Her head came up, red-rimmed eyes staring straight into his glowing green ones.

"We are…" he hesitated. He couldn't tell her now. She wouldn't believe him. She'd think he was torturing her. He couldn't hurt her. "We are friends, kind of." He tried to give her a small smile, but she continued to stare at him.

"Friends?" she wondered. "Why would my son be friends with a ghost?"

"We have lots in common." He wondered how much she knew about him. The silence pressed on him to talk some more. "I was in his room looking for him. I… I had something of his I needed to return." His stomach twisted as he lied to her. She didn't deserve this.

She stared at him for a few moments more. He started to doubt that she believed him when she spoke again. "Where is my son?" All the fire was draining out of her body. Her voice was even becoming laden with lack of sleep and too much fear.

He hesitated. What could he tell her? "He's trapped, I think." Wonderful, he thought, now she's going to ask where. "He can't get out."

A faint smile crossed her face. "If he's trapped and you know it, why were you looking for him in his room?" she asked softly. He was caught in his own lie.

He stiffened, looking up. He opened his mouth to try and answer when she suddenly stood up. "Look at this, ghost," she moved across the space between them, stopping just before the ghost-shield. She held up the picture that she had been cradling. "This is my son." He looked at a picture of himself – one from quite a few years before, when the two of them has been working on some science experiment together. His dad had snapped the picture, he remembered. She had kept that picture, framed it, and put it on the bookshelf in the living room. He had seen her smiling sometimes, just staring that that picture for the longest time. He had never wondered why before this moment. "I want my son back. Where is he? You know, ghost. I know it." She paused and whispered, "Please."

He stared into her eyes. His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. What could he say? Should he tell her the truth? Finally? Would she believe him?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at him. He had never seen her cry so much before. She was always the strong one in the family – ready to fight to protect those she loved. Here she was, standing in front of her, broken and begging. Begging for a ghost to help her. Ghosts, which she hated more than anything. Begging _him_ for answers. What should he say?

"Please."

"I…." he whispered, uncertain. Suddenly, he knew. He knew he needed to say this. Yet, still, he hesitated, torn. "I'm…"

_To be continued...

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__Ouch – I promised never to do the "tell his mom" thing. AHH! I can't decide what he's going to say! Help… Review for me… _

_Okay, yeah, the chapters are a bit shorter than I first wanted them to be. They are getting longer though. _

_Disclaimer: I still do not own Danny Phantom. Please enjoy the story._


	4. A Dark Visitor

_Nightmares leave you breathless with their sudden changes.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 4 – A Dark Visitor

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"I'm sorry." His voice was barely loud enough for himself to hear. "I don't know where he is." A knife felt like it had been thrust into his stomach. The invisible knifer twisted the blade cruelly deeper into his gut. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes stared into his. A sob wrenched itself out of her lips and she basically flew up the stairs, leaving him in the semi-darkness of the basement. He curled up, dragging his knees almost to his chin, and he sat there and felt sorry for himself and the world. He hadn't really had a choice. She wouldn't have believed the truth. But still… it hurt.

Where had he been for four days? Was this really the real world? The fact that he was missing a huge chunk of time seemed to tell him that he was trapped in a nightmare of the ghostly variety. But if he was, it was a very convincing dream.

He looked about him, looking for a way out. The only way to know for sure, the only way to help his mother was to get out and find some answers. Beat some answers out of an assorted number of ghosts if necessary. Nobody made his mother cry like that and lived to talk about it. He curled his fingers into a fist tight enough that he imagined he could hear his human knuckles pop.

Why couldn't he turn intangible or invisible, but yet still be able to fly and shoot bursts of ectoplasm? It seemed wrong, somehow, that only part of his powers were gone and not the rest. His legs twitched, and his stomach twisted. Something was definitely wrong with him. He didn't know what – but he could assume it was ghost-related.

He struggled to his feet and started to pace back and forth. Actually, it was only a couple of feet worth of pacing as the ghost-shield was a dome and he needed to duck when he wasn't near the center. A couple of feet were more trouble that it was worth. So he started walking in circles. First one way, then the other, then back the other way. Round and round he traveled, searching his mind for an answer. Searching the ghost-shield for a way out. There was none of either to be found.

Finally, he collapsed down onto the floor again. It had to be something about that fight. The last fight with Skulker. It had been just him and the ghost, really late at night. No Sam or Tucker around. It had been a relatively normal fight, all things considered. Skulker had called him whelp a few times, vowing loudly that he would do all sorts of nauseating things with his pelt if he ever caught him. He had taunted Skulker back, teasing him about his lack of ability to actually catch him and do anything about it. The fight itself had been quick – Skulker had no new weapons and had apparently not learned anything since the last time he had been trounced. He had sucked Skulker into the Fenton Thermos and flew off. Back to bed. Where he couldn't get out of his ghost form.

No. Wait – there had been something. Just after the fight, when he was putting the lid back on the thermos. He had thought he saw some strange red light, and a chill had crawled up his back for a moment. He had put it off as nothing… but what if it was something? What if it was the answer?

He wracked his brains for a few minutes, but couldn't come up with anything on the subject. That was the extent of his knowledge. A red light and a feeling. Not exactly a lot to go on.

He heard a sliver of noise coming from the corner. He jumped into a crouch, instinctively calling ecto-energy out of his body and into his hands. Except there was no fizzling energy. His forehead wrinkled as he concentrated. Nothing. A cold feeling piercing his heart, he stared out into the corner of the dark room. It was too dark to see anything. The dim glow from the ghost-shield wasn't bright enough to illuminate the whole room. "Who's there?" he called out.

_Something_ moved across the room. He saw the vague shadow against the white walls. His whole body tensed. He was not strong enough to fight. Not without most of his powers. They were slipping through his fingers like water. He wasn't sure what he had left to fight with. A shiver of fear crept down through his body.

The something slid out of the shadows and up to the ghost-shield. It reached out and placed its hand on the power button of the generator. Then, it turned to him. He jumped backwards, feeling the sizzle when his head hit the top of the dome. The something smiled at him. It had a mouth and teeth that looked just like his. It had ice blue eyes that stared hauntedly at him from under familiar-looking, messy, black hair. "Save me, Danny," the thing whispered.

Then it hit the power button and, with a flash of red light the only source of light in the dark lab ceased to exist. He shivered violently, though from fear or something else he was not certain. The lingering voice echoed out of the blackest recesses of the dark room. "Save me."

_To be continued...

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__NO! Who is that? I HATE it when stories write themselves and new characters pop in on their own accord. How am I going to weave this new character into the story? We'll just have to stay tuned and find out. sigh_

_Thanks SOO much for the reviews! Especially Icepaw (whom I totally stole the first two words from, thanks very much!)_

_Disclaimer: I still do not own Danny Phantom. Please enjoy the story._

Read and review, of course. :-) Thanks ahead of time!


	5. Into the Dream

_Watch out for that first step... it's a doozy.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 5 – Into the Dream

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He pelted through the dark lab, moving too fast for someone who could no longer walk through objects. He yelped when his feet got caught in the winding tubes of some invention he didn't remember being on the ground, and actually screamed when his whole body slammed into a table he hadn't realized was there until it was too late. Finally, he felt the stairs under his feet and he raced up, his hands and feet clawing for purchase on the dark, hard stairs. He was going too fast, he rammed his head into the door before he realized he was at the top.

The door flew open. Sunlight spilled down upon him as the sun started to rise into the sky. He slammed the door shut and stared about the kitchen, his breath ragged and his eyes wide. He let out a shaky breath and took a slow step away from the door. His arm and leg hurt from when he barreled into the table down there and he would have a king-size bruise on his side later. However, a vague, happy smile crossed his face as he stared at the sun.

"Maddie?" he called softly. "Maddie Fenton?" He wandered out of the kitchen into the deserted living room. Nobody. He crept up the stairs, avoiding the third stair that always squeaked, and poked his head into her room. "Mom?" he whispered when he found the room to be empty. The bed was made, the floor was clean, and there was no sign that anything bad had been happen.

He caught sight of himself in her mirror. Still a ghost. He slipped out of her room and toured the house, including the ops center, sticking his head into every nook and cranny. There was nobody in the house. Where had she gone? Out looking for him? But why would she have taken the time to clean her house?

Stopping in the living room, he glanced around. Everything was too normal. The couch was in the right place, the TV was dust-free, and the various ecto-weapons were scattered about, half taken apart. Even the book shelf was undisturbed. Including… he paused, then drifted over to the shelves in a trance. Including the picture of himself and his mother. The same picture she had been holding downstairs.

He picked it up and stared at the happy faces in the photograph. Why would she have just left it? She had seemed to care about it so much last night. Now, it was just left sitting on the shelf. It even had a small layer of dust on it. Nothing else had dust. That was weird.

"I'm sick of this," he hissed. He glared around, as if the empty silence would answer his questions. "What is going on?" In the silence, he screamed. "What is going on?"

It made no sense. None of this made sense. He needed some answers, and they weren't going to come from this room. In the kitchen, everything looked just as normal. He finally stopped searching and just sat down at the kitchen table, setting the picture of him and his mother on top of the newspaper in front of him, and dropped his head onto his arms. He stared at the newspaper blankly for a long while before it began to sink in. "February?" he whispered. He picked up the picture and the paper and ran his fingers over the date, unbelieving. "Why would we have a February newspaper? It's October."

He had just set down the paper when the door clicked and creaked open. He whipped around. Maddie walked in, carrying a bag of groceries and laughing. When she spotted him, her laugher cut off.

"Ghost." There was no pain and tears in her voice anymore. It was pure anger. She reached for the nearest ecto-weapon. It was pointed at him. He was still reeling. Trying to figure out what was going on. She spotted the picture that he was still holding, clutched in his fingers. "Stay away from my family!" she yelled as her finger found the trigger. There would be no dodging this blast. He couldn't go invisible or intangible. His life was over.

"Wait. Mom, NO!"

_To be continued...

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__:-) Man, I love cliff hangers. _

_Disclaimer: Never have and never will own Danny Phantom. Please continue to enjoy the story._

_Please review._


	6. Flash Forward

_Don't let the nightmares rule your mind._

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 6 – Flash Forward

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He blinked. Who had said that? It had sounded like himself. But yet he hadn't said anything…

That was when it walked through the door. He recognized the creature from the basement that had released him from the ghost-shield. It stared at him with those haunted eyes. "Save me, Danny!" he heard echo softly through his head.

His mother glanced at the creature in his form. "Why not sweetie?" she asked it, her cold eyes quickly centering back on his face.

It smiled vaguely. "He's one of the good guys. He rescued me four months ago, remember?" It glanced in his direction and sent him a stare. He didn't remember rescuing the creature. But obviously, it wanted him to play along.

She lowered the weapon slightly and took her eyes off of him to glance again at the thing she thought was her son. "I suppose… but it is still a ghost…"

"Let him go, Mom. You can catch him next time." It reached over and took the picture out of his nerveless fingers. Then it stood there for a few seconds and watched him. "You can go." He could hear her foot tapping impatiently on the floor, and could see her fingers drumming the barrel of the ecto-weapon.

He hesitated, staring at it. Then, he glanced over at her. What was going on? He needed time to think, time to get his questions answered. Leaving would be a good idea, he knew. That would give him time to find his friends and figure out what was happening.

He took a few steps towards the door when all of the kitchen lights flickered red for a second. He shivered at the sudden cold chill. The kitchen was totally silent. He looked around – the kitchen was suddenly empty. Where had she gone? Where had it gone? He curled his arms around his middle as his insides twisted evilly and he sank to the floor

Lying on the floor was another newspaper. He picked it up and stared at the date. April now. He turned his glowing green eyes towards the window and wondered at that for a moment. Perhaps a better question might be where had _he_ gone?

_To be continued...

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_Oops - a shorter chapter than I wanted. Sorry about that... but I was so caught up in the fantastic stories that others are posting lately..._

_Disclaimer: Never have and never will own anything Danny Phantom related (except for this plot line). Please enjoy my story._

_Enjoy_


	7. Some Answers

_Watch out for nightmares that seem weak, they are usually strong.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 7 – Some Answers

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The house was, once again, devoid of anything except himself. He wandered through the empty rooms for nearly a half-hour, thinking. It was obvious that he needed answers. It was, likewise, obvious that the creature that was taking his place had at least some of those answers. It was, finally, obvious that the creature was not currently present, and probably did not want to hand over the answers easily.

So it would come down to a fight. He stared down as his hand as he tensed his arm and willed some energized ectoplasm to it. Nothing. Even his ability to fly had vanished some time in the past few hours. The only thing he still had of his ghostly persona, other than his hair and eyes, was his slightly-transparent and glowing body.

If he had to fight, he wanted the fight to be completely one-sided. He had left the heroic "fair fight" ideal behind him years ago. He tramped down to the lab and started to collect equipment. A couple of carefully laid traps, an ecto-gun or two, and a "Ghost Containment Device" later, he was crouched behind the couch of the living room, waiting for the creature to walk through the door.

Three hours later, he was rubbing his sore back, and still waiting. He was just starting to think about going into the kitchen to get something to drink when his trap went off. He jumped over the couch, his ecto-gun pointed at the net that was dangling from the ceiling. The creature inside the net was struggling. It stopped when it noticed him approaching.

"Nice trap, ghost," it greeted him, a smile crossing its face.

He smiled back, but it was a tired smile with no happiness in it. "I want some answers. Don't give me trouble and I won't give you trouble."

"That sounds like a plan." It didn't seem terribly troubled by the fact it was dangling from the ceiling with a dangerous weapon pointed at it. In fact, it seemed almost pleased.

"Let's start with who you are."

Its smile grew, showing him every tooth it could. "I am you, dear ghost. I would have thought that was obvious."

He shook his head. "You are not me!" he hissed. "Answer me truthfully or I will use your head for a basketball." He blinked, startled by how much he had sounded like Skulker.

"Would you really?" it mussed, even going so far as to stroke its chin. "I fail to see that sort of maliciousness in you. Too bad, really. You might have really made something of yourself."

He moved the ecto-gun closer, so that it was pointed directly between the creature's eyes. When he spoke, his voice was cold and emotionless. "Who. Are. You."

The creature laughed, gazing at him over the barrel of the ecto-gun. "Perhaps you have something in you after all. Ah well. It really is too late for you." It placed its hand on the end of the ecto-gun and pushed it back at him. As he stumbled back, the creature leaned lazily back into the net and grinned at him. "You are trapped, my host. Trapped in a world of your own design. Such a nice world too." It gazed around for a moment, then leaned forward and met his gaze. "And, sooner or later I will find your weakness. Then your world will crumble, your soul will flee into the afterlife, and I will be all that is left. I will take your place. I will take your potential. I will be you." It dissolved into maniacal giggles.

"I'll stop you!" he yelled. He tried to remain confident, but his knees were going weak and his arms were trembling. This creature seemed far too positive of itself to be easy to defeat.

"A thousand hosts have told me the same thing," it giggled. "You are only the latest in the line. Far from the first, and definitely not the last."

"I'll find a way to stop you."

It stopped giggling, and stared solemnly into his eyes. "Of course there is a way to stop me. Every ghost has a weakness." It gazed at him, its eyes taking in the dazed expression in his eyes, the slumped posture, and the dim glow of his body. "I am near to finding yours. Too near for you to stop me." A merciless grin split its face. "But we need to keep this fun, don't we ghost? So I'll tell you my weakness." It thread its fingers into the mesh of the net and pushed its face into the net. "You need to find the key." Then it settled back again, watching him.

"A key?" he asked. "What key?"

"The key to you. The key to your power. It is something that you have always had, but never thought about. You have always carried with it you, but never touched it. You have always known this, but never told anyone. It is what will make you the most powerful ghost to ever have existed." It was silent as its words seemed to echo around the room for a moment. "That is your key." A gleeful light glittered in its eyes for a second. "That is also your weakness."

They stared at each other. Glowing green eyes into ice-blue eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, when Maddie walked through the door and started screaming at him. With the number of weapons he had dragged up to "fight" the creature, he decided it would be a better idea to make a swift exit than to stay and ask more questions. After all, she knew the ecto-weapons much better than he did. And she was a far better shot.

_To be continued...

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__Remember… watch the pronouns. I've been very, very careful with them – Danny is ALWAYS 'he' and the creature is ALWAYS 'it.'_

_Disclaimer: The probability of me actually owning Danny Phantom is about the same as me writing a decent-sized chapter in this story (as in nil). Please enjoy._

_If you like it (or if you don't) please review. Reviewing is what keeps me writing._


	8. Confrontation

_Confront your nightmares in the darkest reaches of your mind._

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 8 – Confrontation

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He met the creature again later that evening. He was waiting on his bed when it walked through the door. It didn't seem surprised to see him there. "We didn't get to finish our conversation earlier," he quipped, motioning to the chair next to the desk.

"Of course not. We were interrupted." It walked over to the chair and slid into it, relaxed and unconcerned.

"I have a few more questions. You'd better answer them truthfully!" he snarled.

It answered him with a grin.

"You never got around to telling me who you really are."

"I am you. There is not difference." It smiled patiently. "How come my hosts always have a hard to understanding this? There is no me. I am you."

"But why? Why do you need me?"

It sat up, tilting its head, hesitating. "I lack a body of my own, ghost. I lack the power and abilities to manifest myself on either the human plane or the ghost zone. My power and abilities come directly from my host. That is why I search out the strongest ghosts to take over."

He stared, startled, at the creature. This seemingly powerful being was that weak? It didn't even have enough power to form a body for itself? He was getting completely trounced by a creature so weak it barely existed? Yet, somehow, it seemed to be telling the truth.

"I am very good at what I do," it continued, turning its gaze to his folded hands. "That is why I can control ghosts of power, such as yourself. Although, I will admit that you present more of a problem than I had originally assumed. You have held off my mental probing for longer than any of my hosts in several hundred years. For a boy of such limited experience, I am extremely impressed."

He just continued to stare at the creature, mouth dropping open. Why was it complimenting him?

"It shows just how much raw potential you have in you. No door is closed to you. You could've been anything." It looked up from its twiddling fingers, a smile crossing its face. For a second, its eyes glowed green. "I can be anything. I am slowly figuring out your key, and once I have it all, I will have all of your powers, all of your potential, and all of your future. And you – ghost child – will have nothing. Not even your memories."

"I will stop you!" he screamed, jumping out of his bed and trying to punch the creature in the face. It just went intangible and he screamed again when his fist hit the wall behind its head.

"So you've said." It sighed. "You fail to understand. All I need is time. And that, child," it picked up a small stick with glowing green swirls, "is something you do not have possess." It waved the stick, causing a small red circle of light to form in the air. It flew to over his head, almost like a crown. "I now control this dream, just as I control the time. I have all the time in the universe to learn your key, and you have none!" It grinned happily, then flicked its stick towards him. The red circle descended over him, enveloping him in a burst of red light.

When it cleared, the room was empty and the calendar on his desk read June. He clenched his fingers into a fist and let out a yell of pure frustration.

_To be continued...

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__Check out my NEW DeviantArt site (check the URL from my FanFiction homepage or search for my username – it's still cordria)! _

_Disclaimer: The probability of me actually owning Danny Phantom is about the same as me writing a decent-sized chapter in this story (as in nil). Please enjoy and check out my other stories too._

_If you like it (or if you don't) please review. Reviewing is what keeps me writing._


	9. Out of Time

_You cannot run from your fears. They are faster than you will ever be.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 9 – Out of Time

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He raced through the house, not even thinking about who was there. He needed to find the key. He needed to find it before that evil creature did. A thousand questions tore through his mind, not the least of which was the question of what the key was.

As he ransacked the lab, tossing equipment into the air, looking for some sort of hint, a thought passed through is mind. It made him stop, holding the Fenton Fisher in mid-toss. Where was everybody? He had only seen his mother and the creature. Where were his dad and sister? What about his friends? Why weren't they in this dream?

Finally, he tossed the modified fishing pole over his shoulder and grabbed another piece of equipment, dropping that line of thought. He stared at a Fenton Thermos, then dropped it with a crash onto a pile of junk. He wasn't going to find any answers in the lab. He knew it down deep inside of him.

He slowly moved up the steps, feeling more and more drained of energy as time progressed. He meandered through the house, trailing his fingers over railings and tables. The house was still empty. It was quiet – a sort of unreal quiet that only happened in movies or in bad dreams.

He paused for a few moments in his sister's room. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for months. Almost like Jazz didn't exist. Why hadn't his mother noticed? Was she just a piece of the dream or was she trapped here somehow too?

His mother's room was a different story. The bed was still rumpled from last night, and there were dirty clothes in the corner. None of his father's things were touched. Just his mothers'. He wondered if she realized that there were people missing from her life. What had the creature done to her?

In the living room, he flopped down on the couch and closed his eyes. He was so tired, and the search was hopeless. It would just be a matter of time before that evil creature came back and destroyed him. He opened his green eyes and sighed. He might as well spend it doing something interesting. He reached for the remote to the TV that was sitting on the bookshelf nearby, wondering if this dream world got more than just basic cable.

He stopped, staring at the pictures sitting beside the remote. He got up and stood next to the bookshelf and picked up a handful of photos. He dropped them, one-by-one, until he was left with only one in his hands. The picture of him and his mother. A small smile came unbidden to his face as he remembered the smiles and laughter of that day. He brushed off a small layer of dust, then he tilted the picture slightly so he could see his reflection in the glass.

He gazed at his reflection in horror. His insubstantial-ness was gone, and the glowing energy surrounding his body was rapidly vanishing. Then, it was gone as well. That was it. The last of his ghost powers were gone.

"Ghost," he heard the creature speak from behind him. "I figured it out. Time is up."

He didn't even pause long enough to take a breath before he took off running. He dropped the picture and sprinted for the door. He heard the sound of breaking glass as it hit the floor. Tears blurred his vision as he moved, for he knew very well that there was no place to run.

_To be continued...

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_

_Disclaimer: The probability of me actually owning Danny Phantom is about the same as me writing a decent-sized chapter in this story (as in nil). Please enjoy and check out my other stories too._

_If you like it (or if you don't) PLEASE review. Reviewing is what keeps me writing._


	10. Phantom Tears

_Find that which you fear most and use it against your fears.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 10 – Phantom Tears

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He was curled up on the floor of the lab, tears trickling down his face. He was still a ghost, so they weren't normal tears. They left flowing trails of ectoplasm on his cheeks. Not that he really cared at the moment. He was stuck – trapped in his nightmare until he found a way out. He had lost all of his ghost powers, he had lost all of his energy. The only ghostly thing about him right now was his appearance. He looked like a pale human with glowing green eyes and white hair. A pale little teenager that barely had enough energy to move.

The creature that had taken over his life was coming to finish him off. Once he was out of the way, it would be able to take over his life permanently. Not just in this stupid nightmare, but in real life as well. He would cease to exist. He would die. And there was nothing he could do about it.

So he sat there and cried.

He had imagined his end any number of ways. Getting blasted by Valerie was one that played through his mind on a number of occasions. Getting sliced up by Skulker, doomed by any number of ghosts, destroyed by Plasmius, or even getting ripped painfully apart by his parents were all common nightmares. But those were all ways of dying that he had come to terms with – he had accepted. Dying quietly in his dreams was not one of them. No one would know that he was gone. No one would care.

The creature would just step into his shoes, into his life, and take over. Until it got bored. Then it would leave, and his family and friends would be thrown into chaos. They would suffer. And it would be all his fault.

He was one of the more powerful ghosts in the ghost zone, and getting more powerful as the days wore on. And yet, here he was, cowering in the shadow of a ghost that was so weak it couldn't even manifest itself without a host. It was depressing. It was humiliating. It was hard to believe.

There was a way to win. The creature had said so itself. He had to find the key to getting out of this dream. It had said that the key was something that he always had, but never thought about. Always carried with him, but never touched. Always had known, but never told anyone. It had to be something.

Or it might be nothing. It might have just said those things to torture him. To give him a moment's worth of hope before utterly destroying him.

It was rather academic since it was too late. He didn't look up when he heard its footsteps on the stairs. He didn't look up when the footsteps reached the ground and started towards him. He didn't look up when he could feel it standing over him. However, he couldn't quite suppress the flinch when a hand reached out to touch his shoulder.

He lifted his tear-stained face and stared into his mother's eyes. She was looking at him with such compassion. She made a snorting noise and reached for a handkerchief. She wiped his cheeks and gave him a quick smile. "So, ghost." She sat back onto her heels and watched him for a second. "What has got you so down?"

"My life is over," he mumbled after a minute. He put his head back down on his arms, trying to hide the fact that another tear had escaped his eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked. She settled down next to him.

"Why do you care?" He lifted his head, surprised at how painful and sharp his voice had come across. He didn't mean to try and scare her. He didn't want her to leave… not yet.

She stared at him for a moment. "I don't know," she finally murmured. "For some reason, something I can't explain, I care." She pushed his long, white hair out of his eyes and flashed him a quick smile. "I'm here to listen if you want to talk."

He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to put her into the position of knowing the truth. It was better if she didn't. She was just a dream anyway. But he found himself talking, spilling the story out. He told her that the creature upstairs wasn't her son – it was some ghost that had pulled them into a dream. That creature was going to kill him and take her son's place. Not just in this dream world, but in the real world as well. He told her about the key. That he could win if he figured it out.

He expected her to laugh, or to try and shoot him, or something. But she just stared at him and nodded. "He has been acting very strangely the past few months. That would explain it."

She couldn't accept it that fast, he wondered. He watched her for a moment. Her eyes sparkled slightly, down beneath the surface. She was playing with him – not really believing him but willing to go along with the story of awhile. She used to do that a lot when he had been little. He sighed, a small smile escaping his sour mood.

"So if this monster is trying to take over my son, why did he yank you into this dream and not my son?"

He stared off at the wall for a few moments. He was going to die in a few minutes anyway. She wasn't really his mother. It was just four words and he could die with his conscience a little cleaner. What did he have to lose?

"Because," he whispered, mustering up the courage to say the four words that would forever change his world. "I am your son."

She laughed softly, then looked over at him. He met her eyes for the first time in a while, and bit his lip. Another ectoplasmic tear trickled down his cheek. A smile grew inside of him. Even if she didn't believe him, he had told her. She knew. He rolled his eyes and stared up at the stairs, where the steady sound of approaching footsteps could be heard.

It was a very soft death knoll for a kid who would soon be a full ghost.

_To be continued...

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_Watch it... only two chapters to go..._

_Wow... 900 hits and 4 more reviews. Thanks! Shadow Guardian of the Gate, lunerfox, purpledog100, and Purple Mystic - you guys are keeping me sane.__ Keep the reviews coming! I love them._

_As for purpledog100's perfectly ligit question about why he doesn't try to leave the house, I finally figured out an answer! There is nobody in his 'dream world' except him and the creature (and, oddly, his mother... I wonder why?). He's already figured this out (check previous chapter) and knows it would be pointless to do so. The 'town' would be empty of everybody._

_Slameless plug time: I started a new 'short chapters' story - it's called Darkness, and is pretty cool. At least, so say the TEN REVIEWS I got overnight. :-) (sigh) I love writing..._

_I never own Danny Phantom._

_Enjoy._


	11. The End of Things

_In the end, your fears will reign supreme.__

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**The Nightmare  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 11 – The End of Things

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It appeared at the bottom of the stairs, still wearing its Danny disguise. It looked surprised to see his mother sitting next to his side. But then it shrugged, and continued forwards. In its hand was that stick-like object with glowing green swirls running up the sides. It stopped in front of him and dropped into a squat.

"This," it said, "is a very powerful device that I appropriated from Pariah Dark a few centuries ago. It allows me to take over the life of another ghost, for however long I wish to." It flipped the stick from one hand to the other, watching his green eyes following its path. "You, ghost, are going to be the most powerful being in the ghost zone one day. I want that to be me. You should be proud."

He didn't feel proud. He felt slightly sickened. "If you are going to kill me, do it already," he snapped. He didn't like people or ghosts that went on and on.

It rocked backwards on its heels and grinned menacingly at him. "Oh, don't worry. Your death is coming quickly enough." It turned to look at his mother. "Why don't you go upstairs and I'll deal with the ghost?"

He turned to look over at his mother as well. She was staring at the creature, thoughts flickering behind her eyes. She glanced back at him, then back at it, her forehead furrowing in thought. It soon became clear that she wasn't going to answer its question.

It sneered softly. "Fine. I'll destroy him with you here. It's not like there's anything you can do about it lady. I still don't know why you are here with me, but it doesn't matter."

"What do you mean by that?" he spoke up. "She's not supposed to be here?"

It laughed. "It's your dream. I've never had another person in the dream-world before with my hosts. It was diverting way to pass the time, anyway."

"What are you going to do with her?" he asked. This was interesting… she wasn't supposed to be in this dream? Where did she come from then? A vague thought clicked in his mind. Perhaps there was something to that.

"You shouldn't care." Its eyes seemed to glow red for a moment. "Enough of this. Say goodbye, Danny."

He closed his eyes and braced himself for the ending of his life. He still couldn't believe it was going to end like this. He was supposed to grow up and become a hero, not die as a teenager in his own basement. He…

"Danny!" he heard his mother scream, interrupting his flow of pitiful thoughts. He snapped his eyes open just quick enough to see the blast of ecto-energy slam into the creature's side. His mother was standing over on the other side of the lab, steaming Fenton Blaster in her hands. She stared at him for a moment, then turned back to the creature impersonating her son.

"You kept me locked up in this dream for months!" she seethed, punctuating her sentence with blasts from the ecto-weapon. The creature snarled at her, but it was being pushed backwards with each blast. "You tortured my son! You lied to me. And then you tried to kill him!" Her last blast lifted it off its feet and onto the stairs leading up to the kitchen.

He struggled to his feet, following his raging mother up the stairs. The creature was retreating, tipping the kitchen table over and hiding behind it. It snarled at his mother as he got to the top of the stairs and leaned against the door jam. He was so tired. But he was in the position to see it pick up a discarded ecto-weapon off the floor. He could see the grin on its face. One shot was all it would take. She, a mere human, wouldn't be able to take more.

He didn't even think. He didn't even realize he was moving until he was half-way across the kitchen. He didn't have the energy to do more than barrel straight into the creature. That would have to do. He was just steps away when it noticed his approach. With a gleeful shout, it swung the stick around and slammed it into his side just before they collided.

He screamed at the mountain of pain brought on by such a tiny stick. His mind felt like it was about to explode. "Mom!" he shrieked.

"Danny!" he heard his mom call faintly, and then the universe exploded into a million colors. The colors flickered around his mind like butterflies for a few precious moments, then the world went black.

_To be concluded…

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_I still can't decide if I love or hate those three words. _

_Poor Danny. Couldn't find the key. Hm... wonder if a fourth word needs to be added to my list of D's about this story: dark, dismal, depressing, and (now) death. _

_YES! (Dances and sings and throws her hands in the air) WE'VE PAST 1000 HITS! A first for me, by the way. (wipes tears from her eyes). As this story is near and dear to me (at least, it is now) I would love to be able to thank each and every one of you who has opened this story and contributed to that tremendous number. But that would take forever. So, if you are part of that AWESOME accomplishment, give yourselves a pat on the back from me. I thank you._

_Those of you who have stuck with me through to this chapter (especially those of you who are reviewing for me), this ones for you. Thanks to Nonasuki-chan, Icepaw, and purpledog100 for reviewing._

_It's the end of things. (yup, the title tells all and is not very creative. That's the way the cookie crumbles some days.)_

_AND - those_ _of you who are enjoying this story who have not yet had a chance to read my other, fabulous, wonderful, and awe-inspiring story called Darkness, I think you should. Get hooked on that one too. :-)_

_Can not, will not, and should not own Danny Phantom. Too much work. I'll stick with minor plot lines._


	12. Beyond the Stick

_In the end, the morning will come, but the nightmares will always be there... waiting for you...__

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**The Nightmare**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Chapter 12 – Beyond the Stick

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He was dead. He had been hit by the creature's stick and had been blown to bits. There was not other way to explain how he was feeling. He didn't feel tired, or sick, or hurt, or anything of that nature. He felt… good. He was laying on something soft, and it smelled nice. At least he had died and gone someplace good, he told himself. It could be worse.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

"Get up Danny!" he heard Jazz scream through the door. "You're going to be late for school again!"

"What?" he mumbled, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He was laying on his bed, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He relaxed slowly. It had all been a dream after all. It had all be so real though.

He rolled out of bed and fumbled on some clothes. Tramping down the stairs for breakfast, he passed his sister racing back upstairs. "Why are you and Mom so out of it this morning?" she yelped when she saw his mess of hair and rumpled clothes. "Did you both get no sleep?"

He paused, staring up at Jazz's retreating form. "Mom got no sleep last night?" he whispered to himself. He wrinkled his forehead, wondering.

In the kitchen, his mom was busy making cookies for that afternoon. She smiled when she saw him. "Morning, sweetie!"

"Morning," he replied, smiling at her. He had to know. What that all real? Did she remember it? Or had it been in his head? "Did you have any strange dreams last night?" He asked her really smoothly, trying to hide the expectation from his voice.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Dreams, sweet heart? What kind of dreams?" She watched him for a moment before going back to her cooking.

He shuffled his feet. He didn't want to get her onto a track about ghosts. She and Dad would be setting up equipment in his room to monitor his dreams within the hour if he brought the dream up. He sighed. "Never mind." She didn't remember anyway. He was sure of it.

She handed him a breakfast bar and shooed him out the door. "You're late already. Hurry and catch up to your friends."

He only made it a few feet before he stopped and turned around. "You're the greatest, you know that?" he asked softly.

She smiled hugely at him. "Love you too sweetie. See you after school!"

She watched him walk away. Then she sighed and headed back into the kitchen. There, she pulled out a drawer and picked up an object hiding in the drawer that she had found on the floor that morning. It was a smallish stick with green, vaguely glowing swirls on it.

She tapped it slowly against her hand as she wandered into the living room. Stopping before the bookcase, she reached out and picked up the picture of herself and Danny when he was a little younger. She loved this picture.

She could remember how she had woken up very early this morning in a panic. She had raced over to his room and had stood over him, watching him sleep for hours. It had finally occurred to her that he had found the key he had been looking for. A smile flickered over her features. He hadn't even known it.

_The key was something that he always had, but never thought about. Always carried with him, but never touched. Always had known, but never told anyone. _

The key had been his love for her.

_The end.

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_Which only leaves us with one question. Where did the creature end up? Perhaps you'll find out in a sequel sometime…_

_It's been a blast writing for you. Enjoy!! Check out my other stories, of course. :-)_

_Review. Please. I'm begging you. On hands and knees (just take my word for it that I can be on hands and knees and still be typing.)_

_By the way I love my ending, please do not flame it or I will sic my rabid goldfish on you._

_Danny Phantom is, one last time, not mine and never will be._


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